


Wine

by Therm (Mister_Spock)



Category: The Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: Gen, Not Daryl/Beth!!!!
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-07
Updated: 2020-03-07
Packaged: 2021-03-01 02:14:03
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 816
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23057548
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mister_Spock/pseuds/Therm
Summary: Beth tries to have a conversation with Daryl.
Kudos: 2





	Wine

She hadn't known he was in there when she stepped into the room and she froze in fear when he turned his eyes towards her.

Beth had simply decided to get to know the prison layout a little better now it was safe. As far as she was aware, everyone else was back in the section they'd made their main living area, not lurking around in the unused parts of the prison. But there he sat, a man she'd never uttered a word too, sat on a work surface in what was the kitchen on the prison downing a bottle of something.  
She wanted to run and get someone, unsure of herself and this man together, what she should do for the best. When she looked back to him from the ground she'd chose to stare at, she realised he'd resumed drinking, staring off at the wall in front of him not fussed if she stayed or went.

"Are you okay?" she asked but unsurprisingly he blanked her.

She turned to leave but felt she couldn't leave him there like that. She'd not been raised to leave people alone when they were in pain. She turned back to him, taking a few steps closer and tried again.

"If you want to talk... I mean, it might help,"

"You didn't wanna talk when you tried to off yourself did ya?" He replied.

She went to reply automatically, to defend herself before stopping. "You don't want to kill yourself, do you?"

He snorted. "Girl, I'm drinking wine in a prison's kitchen. If I wanted to end it all I might be a little bit more productive about it," he tapped the gun sticking from his belt. "Anyway, I'm not in no funk, jus' wanted to be... alone for a bit,"

"You want me to go?" She asked.

He wanted to say yes, but he found she didn't annoy him as much as she once might have. Maybe he was going soft being with Rick and his group but the girl had a rough time since their group showed up at the farm.

"Maybe talking would help?" She offered.

He just shrugged. Talking was never going to be his thing. He held out the bottle of wine to her and she shook her head automatically. "Go on, what's a little sip gonna hurt?"

Beth stepped a little closer keeping her eyes on Daryl and she smiled a little at the glint in his eyes, almost daring her to try it. She felt like a naughty schoolgirl and it seemed like Daryl had the same thought at the same second.

He got off the counter quickly moving away with the bottle. "What the fuck am I doing, you're like 12."

"I'm not that young!" she countered, annoyed that he thought she was so young. "Besides, I can make my own decisions," She reached for the bottle but he pulled it away from her.

"Forget it, kid, I was being a dick," he said, pouring the rest of the drink away down the sink before he rested the bottle next to it, but his nervousness caused him to knock it off and the bottle smashed on the floor. "Fuck," he cursed. He moved back towards Beth, glass cracking under his boots and started to head for the door.

"Don't you wanna talk?" She asked, hopeful. "Sometimes talking to someone who doesn't know you can help,"

"I don't know anyone here," he said, voice sounding angrier than he meant. "You're all fucking strangers to me," He turned to go again.

"Wait," she said, desperate tone to her voice. "Please?" she tried.

What could he say to her? That he still regretted every day that his brother was left behind in Atlanta and he had no idea where he was? That he regretted that he didn't stay in Atlanta looking for him rather than heading back with the group to save the others at camp, the strangers.  
Could he try and explain to her just how much finding Sophia had meant to him when he didn't really understand it himself? That finding her meant more to him than finding Merle ever had. That he actually dreamt once that he bought Sophia back to the camp and every time he went out he was certain he'd make it come true. That he stupidly kept her Mother's hope alive that he'd be able to find her. That he'd only ever been good at one thing his whole life and when it really counted, he hadn't been able to do that right. He'd let the group down, let Carol down and let that little girl down.

Of course, he wouldn't say any of that. Couldn't say a word.

"There's nothing to say," he finally said.

"Really?"

He looked at her dead in the eye, held her gaze until he turned from her and left the room.


End file.
